Past Summer's Prime
by TheImaginationAddict
Summary: The last we saw of Katherine Brooke was at the end of Anne of Windy Poplars, when she became the secretary of a 'globe-trotting' MP,and set forth into her new life full of hope. What was her story? Chap 3 & 4 updated!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Some characters belong to L M Montgomery. The others belong to me.**

* * *

><p>Prologue<p>

**June,1891.**

Dearest of Anne's!

Envision me seated at the window of my hall bedroom, at the boarding house presided over by Miss Ada Harvey and Miss Hannah Harvey, who send their love(Count yourself thankful that they send only _that,_ and not another cushion!) ,as I pen this epistle to you. I avow, Anne, my worst nightmare these days is that I will wake up to find I can't move an inch – because of all those cushions filling up all the space above and around me! If I didn't believe in the essential _goodness_ of your character, I'd have thought you had recommended this place as revenge for all the times I've slighted you in the past. You haven't, _have you_, Anne? But I didn't write to complain about my cushiony woes – Anne dear, I've got a job!

You may wonder, and rightly so, what it is about this job which makes me sound as giddy as – as Myra Pringle, perhaps. As the outcome of today's interview, I am to be the private secretary of Sir Arthur Giles, MP, who is a man of a seemingly-large culinary appetite, on the wrong side of fifty (Did we _ever_ decide satisfactorily what the right side of an age is?) and as first impressions go, seems to be a rather pompous, though kind, personality. His wife (who conducted the interview for him) belongs to that breed of well-meaning busybodies, who consider the entire world's business to be theirs, and whom no snubs can deter (I foresee all my sarcastic endeavours going right over her head.) I was given to understand that, my secretarial duties aside, I am to be an informal companion to her, as, in her words, "Sir Giles is under the habit of roaming off to different parts of the globe every few months, and if it were not for me, who would care about his food and health? But, I, for one, am not at all convinced that Africa and India and all those Oriental countries are truly civilized – I would not want to be stuck in some heathenish place with no English-speaking people for company, as I am sure you will understand, Miss Brooke. Surely you have no objection to travelling?" Objection to travelling? It was all I could do to keep from dancing a jig, out of joy, right there! I asked Lady Giles (who goes by the alliterative first name of Gwendolyn) if _she_ had an objection to dogs, for I couldn't possibly leave Argos behind, you know, not for all the sights around the world. She doesn't, and I find myself in the state of having the phrase "my cup of happiness overflowing" to be true in my case, for the first time in my history.

I know I'd said that I was going to wrest my due of joy from life, after all the troubles I've undergone, but truly, Anne, when life has so handed out happiness on a platter, by itself, it seems so much easier to hope. As,

"For some were sorry when they saw how slow

The stream of heavenly love on earth must flow;

And some were glad because their eyes had seen,

Along its banks, fresh flowers and living green."

, it seems as though I have been delivered from the ranks of the former group, to the latter – and it strengthens my belief in all that is good and pure and ideal, which I had lost, somehow, somewhere, in all my cynicism. Oh, how wonderful life seems just now! I may as well go out and hug the beech tree outside the window – so thoroughly have I been converted to the true Anne-ish philosophy of living life.

I wish I could tell you what you've brought into my life, Anne. Despite my "impervement", as Mrs. Bryce would say, I would still feel embarrassed and full of maudlin sentimentality if I spoke this out aloud, but it _must_ be said. You have given me a gift greater than any – the hope that there _is _yet hope for me, that I do _not_ have to be a slave of circumstances any longer. You have taught me how to make friends (though your Rebecca Dew would say that I could do with a lot more practice in _that_) , and you don't know how grateful I am to find that I am capable of building friendships with those kind of people whom I admire. A fear that had begun to haunt me, before my "redemption", was that I would find people who were interesting and funny and witty, all those things I revered as qualities of "the highest intellect", and then, because of my very conduct, repulse them and drive them away. I have only you to thank for my changed outlook, my prospects now and for any joy I may find from now onwards; and I thank the Lord for the day Anne Shirley – soon-to-be-a-'Missus' – decided that she would not believe I was a lost cause, and set about to reclaim me.

I had a letter from Green Gables last week. Mrs Lynde was full of advice about living in the city; Marilla sent me the recipe of the raspberry pudding I'd asked for ,and Davy was full of news about the pig that broke into the village green and the horrendous (or hilarious, depending on the point of view) chase that ensued. Who knew that I would find so much pleasure in happenings at a small, drab village, which was what I'd have thought of any place, before I realised the value which relationships brought to even the smallest atom of life?

According to Lady Giles, the next trip to "roam off to different parts of the globe" is due in two months. By then, hopefully, I will have gotten used to my position in the world as an independent, globe-trotting woman (Ah, how those words thrill my heart!), and you will not have to be alarmed by any "excessive high spirits" on my part, which, as an efficient, steady secretary to an MP, I will have to eschew. Oh, Anne, life seems even too good for sarcasm!

Yours in gratitude and giddy contentment,

Katherine Brooke.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well, how'd you like it? Please do review in ****your opinions,praises and criticizms! If you think you'd be interested to know Katherine's story - please subscribe and motivate me to write more!**

**P.S:The lines are from the poem 'A Legend Of Service', by Henry van Dyke. It was published ten years after Katherine wrote this letter(for I firmly believe that my story is true) , but I'm sure Katherine would've mentioned it if she'd known it at this point. The title of this series is a phrase taken from the poem 'The Indigo Bird' by John Burroughs.**

**wb - Thanks for reviewing! Anne's rubbing off her alright, but after this initial letter, Katherine does "settle down" a bit. ;) Yeah, even I'd initially thought that she would fall in love with her boss, but I thought it would be improper to have her roaming around the world with him alone(single woman and all). Don't worry, it's a romance alright! ^_^ Keep reading to find out![Arthur and Gwendolyn are my own characters - but LMM's characters will keep making appearances :) ]**


	2. Chapter 1

**September 2nd,1891.**

'- edit that report to be sent to New Orleans…that telegram to Robert Hudson's office - yes, the Minister for International Trade - must be dispatched by today - - will dictate the letter to my office regarding the situation in Digby . . . yes, that will be all for now, Miss Brooke. '

As Sir Giles left the cabin, chosen as the 'study' for all his official work while aboard the _Suncastle,_ Katherine looked up from her typewriter, and towards the porthole, the light streaming from which, seemed to indicate that it was little past midday. It was the second week after the liner had left the port of Halifax, headed for Dublin Port, and Katherine had hardly had any time to "get acquainted" with the ship, as Lady Giles, who seemed prone to the malaise of seasickness, had taken to her bunk on boarding and hadn't stepped out since; Katherine's services being needed to entertain the invalid in her enforced state of inactivity. She had met but a few of the other passengers during dinners in the saloon, and deciding to use the rare moment of freedom that had come her way (for Lady Giles was taking her constitutional nap) she went up onto the deck. In the quiet, hot afternoon, there was hardly a soul around, except the Watch. Katherine leaned against the railing and watched the smooth gliding movement of the ship through the water, reflecting the bright blue of the cloudless sky. It did seem like the words,

"_The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,_

_The furrow followed free:_

_We were the first that ever burst_

_Into that silent sea."_

, were true even in their circumstances. Katherine smiled to herself wryly, shivering in spite of the heat of the noonday sun. Romantic thought indeed, to be imagining this crossing to be alike that famous one, and yet – she would rather her maiden voyage was unspoilt by the doom of being "Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea!"

Lost in thought, she did not know that she had company, till a young voice spoke up. "Do you know what I think of the sea, Miss Brooke?"

Katherine turned, to find Lily Kingsley beside her, staring out at the sea, clutching the lower rail with both hands. Lily Kingsley was the daughter of Sir Charles Kingsley, a young MP who was heading out to Edinburgh. His family, consisting of his wife and two daughters, the younger - a mere babe, had been introduced to Katherine on the first day on board, and she had exchanged few pleasantries with Lady Kingsley, who was a pretty matron of thirty one, and though Katherine's senior by two years and much higher above in rank, had seemed friendly and unaffected. The baby, one-year-old Clara, was of a placid disposition, and uncharacteristically, for a toddler, disinclined to chatter, but the eleven-year-old Lily made up for the lack admirably.

She was a petite, pretty child, with soft brown hair in braids, and light brown eyes set in a clear, light-complexioned face. Katherine had come across her on the ship several times in the past week – she seemed to be everywhere – in the corridors, on the decks, in the bow; one couldn't help but notice that she always had her nose stuck in a book, and when she wasn't reading, she was talking nineteen to the dozen. The first night aboard the ship, at dinner, she had engaged the captain in a discussion of the time it took for the various types of naval vessels to cross the ocean, the parameters involved in judging time and distance on water, and so forth; and Katherine had been surprised to observe how intelligent and logical her questions were, for her age. That her parents were lenient, good natured and encouraging of her curiosity was evident ("Too lax, that's what_ I _think they are. 'Children must be seen and not heard' was what they used to say in my time, and we turned out right, didn't we? All this mollycoddling will only give them airs and lead them to questioning and defying their elders." Lady Giles had said decisively), but her manner was not encroaching, rather, she had a quaint way of speaking, which made people feel like listening to her. Katherine, who had been applied to for information about blizzards, had evidently risen in her favour, after having answered with a complete description of blizzards and the most severe calamities that had occurred due to them, and she now often confided in Katherine with all the frank candour of the very young.(A proceeding which amused and yet, gratified Katherine no end, who had been used to being treated as a drill sergeant by all her students in days of yore.)

As Katherine turned to her now, smiling, she said thoughtfully, "When I was smaller, I used to feel so scared of the sea – we went swimming once, and the waves went over my head and I thought I was going to drown, you see. I used to think of it as a huge blanket which would smother me. I believe I had tha – thalassophobia – isn't that what it is called? Then, one day, my father took me aside and told me how the atmosphere itself is a blanket of air around us, and since then, I think of the earth as having a blanket of air, and underneath that, a blanket of water. Somehow, that took my fear away – after all, I don't get suffocated by the atmosphere, do I? I think my father is the cleverest person in the whole world. Of course, you could say that I _would _think that, him being my father, but I have heard many people say so, and even Miss Miranda – she is my governess – says that he is already considered an authority on many subjects. (Miss Miranda obviously had a high place of honour in her eyes) I would like to be an authority when I grow up. It must be very respectable, don't you think?"

Feeling amused, Katherine smiled in agreement, thinking that, truly, it would be _respectful _to be an authority on something. She looked at Lily's governess, the esteemed Miss Miranda Reeves - who was sitting on a deck chair with her embroidery - curiously. She was a woman of around her own age, with round spectacles and curly brown hair bound into a bun, and long, slim fingers which seemed to proclaim her a musician(_How prejudiced of me_,thought Katherine, smiling at her own folly.) Lady Kingsley and Lily had spoken well about her, but Katherine thought she seemed docile, insipid and unoriginal; and with a tendency to smile too much, if that could be counted as a fault.

At dinner the other night, Katherine had tried making conversation with her, to no avail. Mr. Godfry, a parson with a propensity to hold forth on topics suited to Sunday sermons, had been seated next to her on the other side, and Katherine, after having endured a quarter-hour of the lecture, had resorted to her customary sarcasm to subdue him. She had turned to Miss Reeves, who had had a rather stricken look in her eyes; she had replied to all Katherine's efforts to draw her out with short, mumbled replies, till Katherine had given her up for lost. Since then, she had always had a placid smile on her face whenever Katherine encountered her – a smile which seemed to act as a greeting, a reply and substitute for conversation, as required. And yet – Katherine's interest was stirred. She felt that anyone who had impressed Lily so much could hardly be unintelligent (Having already formed a high opinion of Lily's intellect), and she was determined to draw her out. She had a feeling that Miranda would be a "kindred spirit", in Anne's words, once you got past her guard.

She heard Sir Giles, a few paces away, talking with Sir Kingsley, "– it isn't consistent, to go back on our word after having agreed to those terms. I will send a telegram immediately to revoke those instructions. Mr Matthews will not be pleased to know – " Katherine sighed. It looked like her brief respite was to end. _Two more weeks_, she thought wistfully. _Two more weeks and then I will see the world._

* * *

><p><strong>AN : Well, how did you like the new characters?Thanks to all those who've reviewed and subscribed to this fic! Do review and tell me how you found this!**

**Oh, and a hint - Katherine's "love interest" is mentioned in passing in here - any guesses who? **

**Those who'd read the earlier version of the prologue will realize that I've knighted Katherines's employers; they will henceforth be known as Sir and Lady Giles. :)**

**The lines are from the poem "The Rime of The Ancient Mariner" by Sir Samuel Taylor Coleridge - it's one of my favourites, so I couldn't resist putting it in. :)**

**the reader : Thank you SO much for that beautiful review! :D It literally made my day, and re-inspired me into continuing this fic! :) I'm so glad you think my writing seems authentic - thank you for taking time off to post those words of encouragement! :)**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**September 13th,1891.**

Katherine was crossing the deck one morning, on the way to the kitchens, in search of mustard sauce (Lady Giles had yielded to her maid's assertions that a home remedy made of the same, would work wonders on her condition, and Katherine had offered to procure the ingredients, hoping to escape the stifling cabin for a breath of fresh air), when she chanced upon Miss Miranda and her pupil engaged in a civics lesson. Katherine paused; it was the first time she had seen the stoic Miss Reeves converse in a manner which could only be called animated, and as she overheard her words, found new cause for astonishment.

"No Lily, it isn't so easy to decide which type of government is the best for the smooth running of a nation. History shows us that monarchies never benefitted those of the lower classes, and totalitarian governments offered too little scope for progress. A democracy would seem to be the best option – as it offers most freedom to the people, but in case of the majority being misguided or gullible, or when none of the political parties are actively involved in social welfare, a right to vote would be meaningless. The leaders must decide the best course to follow, according to the state of the country, or perhaps devise new strategies, as said by James Russell Lowell,

"_New occasions teach new duties; time makes ancient good uncouth; _

_They must upward still and onward, who would keep abreast of truth; _

_Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires! We ourselves must Pilgrims be, _

_Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea, _

_Nor attempt the future's portal with the past's blood-rusted key."_

But regardless what type of government the people elect, they must never grow too complacent – being too trusting never helped anyone!"

"_That's_ what is shown in Julius Caesar, isn't it, Miss Miranda? The Romans being swayed - into supporting the conspirators; and later, into following Mark Anthony!"

"Ah, yes, of course, the famous _'Friends, Romans, Countrymen, I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him…'_ ", echoed Miss Reeves, rather dreamily. " Now _there _is a capital example of manipulation, Lily! Leaving aside the motives of the characters, do you see how astute they were in their judgement of human behaviour? That's what Lowell means, too, that one must learn from the actions of others, and avoid making the same mistakes."

Katherine stood listening; feeling amazed at the twists and turns in the conversation – from civics to literature to psychology and general philosophy – it was no wonder Lily sang praises of her governess! Miranda was obviously well suited to teach a girl of Lily's calibre – and when she taught, she seemed no insipid miss, but like a person obviously passionate about her beliefs.

Katherine prided herself on being a good judge of character – she was puzzling over the reason for her mistaken impression of Miss Reeves, when she was hailed by Lily, who had spotted her.

"Miss Brooke, who is your favourite character in _The Tempest_? We have been discussing it - I have read only the abridged version of the play, but I like Ariel the best – "

Katherine noticed that Miranda seemed to have reverted to being bland and silent once again - seemingly, only because of her presence - and felt all those old thoughts of being repudiated and ridiculed begin to intrude once more. _Stop it,_ she told herself fiercely. _Maybe she's shy around strangers; it may not have to do anything with you, personally._ She decided to try again - "I prefer Prospero, he's the only one who shows sense in the story – what do you think, Miss Reeves? I'm sure your favourite character must be anyone other than your namesake!"

Miranda hesitated and replied cautiously, "I, too, like Prospero the best – but I've enjoyed the antics of Ariel and Miranda and Ferdinand's secret courtship equally; nonsense has its own importance – even if only to serve as a source of humour!" This last was said with a thread of defiance that Katherine found baffling, till she realized that beneath the dull veneer, there was a wary look in Miranda's bespectacled eyes. Katherine was well used to it, having seen the same fear in most of her students. _Why is she afraid of me? _She thought, her heart sinking. _I haven't even employed my famously insulting sarcasm on her! _ "I'm sorry if I offended you, Miss Reeves," ,she said slowly, "I didn't mean to – like Elizabeth Bennet, I too_, 'hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, __do __divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can!' – _And you seemed to me to share that same love of the absurd, so–"

A look of incredulous surprise had dawned over Miranda's face. "Oh, are you a fan of Jane Austen, too? Those were _exactly_ the same lines that were running through my head as I thought of laughing at nonsense -" She stopped, as if realising how surprising her impetuous speech must seem, and said slowly, " It appears that I've misjudged you, Miss Brooke, I thought you –"

A volley of barks broke the still morning silence. Katherine looked up to see Argos being led onto the deck by Lily, who had slipped away while she was talking to Miranda. She had left Argos with the sailors below deck, and Lily had 'discovered' him on the first day on board, and spent the greater part of each day playing with him – yet he launched himself on Katherine as if he had been deprived of human companionship for an year, instead of an hour,which was the case.

"Down, Argos!" Katherine laughed, as she tried to escape his slobbery tongue. "You should have left him below, Miss Kingsley – now he will never let me return to my work!"

"Lily will look after him, Miss Brooke," said Miranda, her eyes brimming over with laughter. "They are the best of friends – both have the knack of getting into places no one wants them to, and a marked tendency to talk too much!"

Lily wrinkled her nose at them as they laughed, and Katherine was glad to realise that the girl still had a bit of the child in her, in spite of all her adult-like thoughts.

She turned to Miranda, smiling. "Won't you call me Katherine, Miss Reeves? There are very few people whom I can call friends, and I have a feeling you would make a capital one."

Miranda smiled back. "Only if you call me Miranda, Katherine – I would like to call you my friend too; besides, a one-sided friendship would be of no use to either of us, would it?"

Katherine left them to return to work, feeling light-hearted with joy. How she wished she could write to Anne, and say – _Did you see? I just made a new friend!_

* * *

><p>"Miss Brooke, those tenders are to be sent to Mr Matthews – Oh, you don't know him - Stephen Matthews is a businessman – one of the most successful men of our times – a self-made man, owns an automobile factory in New Orleans – very uh…<em>scientific<em> mind– with a hand in many research works going on … a useful man to know –", by which Katherine gathered that Sir Giles meant that the government had a vested interest in getting to "know" him better. She looked at her employer curiously. It was rare for Sir Giles to express so much admiration for anyone – this Mr Matthews must be an influential man indeed.

And it seemed that she would be getting a chance to judge him in person, for Sir Giles was continuing, "He is in London currently, to set up a branch of his offices there – I will have to meet him on behalf of the railway ministry, to present the terms of the deal, and submit the tender – the legal contract is among those papers, but please make a copy of it for further reference – and you would have to be present at the meeting to note down the particulars, of course. "

Lady Giles was more loquacious on the subject. "Mr Matthews is known in the highest circles in New York – but I believe he was brought up in an orphanage, and yet, he is so gentlemanly! Of course, these businessmen are often a bit brusque, but who can blame them? (_In other words, money pardons any and all breaches of etiquette! _thought Katherine cynically.) Poor things - it is perhaps one of the hazards of their profession," Katherine hid a smile, "…It is said that he started working at railway stations as a common worker – and later, became the apprentice of an engineer – no one knew much about him till around five years ago – Sir Giles says that his rise was phenomenal, whatever _that_ is supposed to mean, but the Knickerbockers were all agog over him, and now he is most sought after by all the most _cultured_ hostesses to grace their dinner parties."

Katherine's lips twitched at the faint note of envy in Lady Giles's voice – she had endured more of Gwendolyn's snobbishness in the past two months than was tolerable, and she couldn't help feeling a bit of vindictive satisfaction at the notion of her chafing at the idea of someone being socially superior to her.

As for Mr Matthews – Katherine felt that she would like to meet him. _One always feels a special sort of curiosity about great people – their achievements undoubtedly make them worthy of respect, and to meet such accomplished people is the next best thing to being great yourself,_ reflected Katherine. _It's_ _like they are examples of what human beings can achieve, if they put their minds to it – the living, breathing equivalents of man-made monuments,_ she thought, amused.

* * *

><p>It was in the evening, when she was preparing for bed, that Katherine remembered Miranda's odd remark. <em>She <em>misjudged me? , she thought, mystified. _I wonder what that was all about… _She checked herself - _I can't believe I am truly feeling so curious about someone else – What have you changed me into, Anne? , _she thought, smiling ruefully. _ If I turn into one of those prying busybodies I've always scorned and made fun of, I'll lay all the blame at your door! _And that starry world of dreams was deferred for yet another hour as she settled down to write to that first true friend of hers.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I wanted Katherine to have a close friend other than Anne, thus Miranda was born. ^_^ To all those who guessed Robert Hudson - I'm so sorry to disappoint you - but Stephen Matthews is the person I meant!(I don't blame you, that was a flimsy clue I gave.) **

**The lines are from the poem 'The Present Crisis', by James Russell Lowell - its a _beautiful _poem, do read it if you liked the bit mentioned above. **

**How did you like this chapter? Please read,review and inform me about any chronological,social or grammatical errors I've made!**

**canadaroks: I'm glad you want to know what happened to Katherine - and I hope you continue reading this, 'coz one of the later chapters is going to contain your request! ^_^**

**the reader: I'm so glad to hear that you like Miranda - and yes, she and Katherine WILL become close friends, so you'll know the reason for her behaviour soon! ^_^ And don't worry, Stephen isn't blonde - I like dark haired men, too! ;)**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**September 14****th****,1891**

'- it _would_ seem a sort of exploitation to deprive authors and their publishers of the protection that the International Copyright Act now offers. I believe that Canada should follow the example of the United States in this – do you think it is probable that such a motion would be passed in the current political situation, Sir Giles?'

It was the night before the scheduled arrival of the liner at the Port of Dublin. The talk at supper had dwelt on the notable literary works of the times, and from there, had turned to the nuances of the publishing industry, in which Sir Charles Kingsley seemed particularly well versed, having had some experience in the field; Katherine found, later, that he had several treatises to his credit, as well as a book in the making. She caught only a snippet of his discussion with Sir Giles, being involved in a spirited conversation with Miranda and Lady Kingsley about the various genres that their favourite writers excelled at, which had (in the usual behaviour of all such conversations) meandered into so many side issues and topics that the original subject had nearly been forgotten.

'No, I cannot say that I enjoy the themes that authors bring up, in the name of 'realism', nowadays – for one, they seem to dwell too much on the negative aspects of life – and I believe that literature must mainly inspire and gladden the reader –' said Lady Kingsley.

'Though I agree with that, there is also the matter of the need for accurate representation of this age in our literature – after all, the writings of any period reflect the beliefs and ideas, as well as the mind-set of people at that time – ' was Katherine's rather- academic argument. She turned towards Miranda, 'What do you think, Miranda?'

Her brow furrowed, Miranda replied slowly, 'It would seem that our literature _is _reflecting our times – perhaps the increasing number of _dark _themes is because people are growing more discontented, less appreciative of their blessings and the beauties of life. And they do say that 'misery loves company', so…' She trailed away, and the haunted, stricken look that Katherine had observed earlier was in her eyes once more.

Lily, who had been seated beside a girl of her own age, the golden haired and gray eyed daughter of a wool merchant, and had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the meal, spoke up, 'May I excuse myself, Mama? I'm rather full, and there's a book of poems that Miss Brooke has lent me which I wish to finish before tomorrow.' She shot a half defiant, half challenging look at the girl beside her.

Her mother smiled indulgently, 'Yes, you can go, but remember that you must wake up early tomorrow, so you can't stay up past your bedtime -'

'I'll accompany her, Lady Kingsley,' said Miranda hastily, who suddenly seemed eager to leave, herself. 'I have a little bit of packing left to complete –'

The teacher and pupil left, after wishing them a good night, and Katherine, who had been sorely tempted to retire to her room as well, remained to converse with Lady Kingsley. _The poor lady would wonder why she'd been so suddenly deserted by all her companions otherwise! _She thought wryly.

It seemed that Lady Kingsley had no such thought in mind, however. 'I must confess, Miss Brooke, that I think Miss Reeves is the perfect governess for Lily. My daughter has a keen and curious mind – I often think that she takes after her Papa in that regard – and as you would probably have noticed, is much sharper than other children of her age. But –' she hesitated, and her sideways glance at the stereotype of girlish childhood, whose company Lily had found so daunting, told Katherine all about the kind of difficulties Lily must have faced with children of her own years.

When she was walking to her cabin after dinner, she passed Miranda's cabin, the door of which stood open. She paused, listening to Lily's youthful voice reciting one of her favourite poems,

_Tell me not, in mournful numbers,_

_Life is but an empty dream!_

_For the soul is dead that slumbers,_

_And things are not what they seem._

_Life is real! Life is earnest!_

_And the grave is not its goal;_

_Dust thou art, to dust returnest,_

_Was not spoken of the soul._

_Those words! _She blinked away the sudden tears that had sprung into her eyes and turned away before either of them could see her. Those words - read long back in childhood, in hopelessness and anguish, and then later, with newly learnt hope, when she had begun to make a new life for herself, had never failed to strike a chord within her. _How strange is human nature, that I can be so affected by mere words – thrown into the depths of despair or lifted to the pinnacles of joy! And yet, these aren't merely words – the thought that there may have been others who weathered the same storms, may have lived through the same kind of lives, may have carried the same burdens – and triumphed! – is what gives one courage to march forward._

She glanced back into the room, saw Miranda looking at her, and smiled softly. Miranda looked as if she felt the same thrill, of hope, of new born anticipation, of unthought-of possibilities, at hearing those words, that she did, and Katherine felt that bond of kinship with her again. _Kindred spirits, indeed._ She thought, smiling ruefully.

She walked on, when Miranda did not come out to talk, but she couldn't help brooding about her new friend. In the past two days, she'd had many conversations with her, and knew now that Miranda was an intelligent and witty young woman, with the same sense of humour as herself. And yet - she wasn't the same around people whom she didn't consider her friends, and Katherine told herself that her initial dealings with herself must have resulted from the same reason. _Perhaps,she's shy,_ she thought,_and takes time warming up to new people_. But – she remembered the half nervous, mute façade that Miranda wore around people like Lady Giles, and the missionary's wife on board – those who belonged to the ilk of busybodies – that wasn't really shyness; she seemed intimidated by them. _Why, I know she laughs at silliness, and can imitate their behaviour perfectly, when we make fun of their absurd conversations – then _why _would she fear them? _It was hard to understand, more so because Miranda became very elusive when it came to discussing personal matters. _And it's so awkward to broach the subject, _she thought. _ I've never had the chance to BE_ _a friend – the sort who consoles, and supports one in times of distress. That_ was what Anne had done for her – helped her against her will, and taught her how to learn to be happy, and that was what she'd have to do for Miranda, if she truly considered her a friend - a friend, moreover, who was unhappy.

* * *

><p><strong>September 15<strong>**th****,1891**

Morning dawned, and having finished packing up her personal belongings, as well as the typewriter and the other 'office supplies', Katherine ventured onto the deck. The light blue sky, reflected in the water below, seemed to create a wondrous illusion – like they were suspended in a cerulean glass ball. Katherine sighed in contentment. How serene and beautiful the sea seemed! She was going to miss this – the salty spray, the soft swishing of the waves beneath, the endlessly stretching sea – and this feeling of peace and wonder. She could almost believe that time stood still –

The horn that signalled the half-hour blew just then, making her jump. She heard a chuckle, and turned to see Miranda, who had come to join her at the railing.

'Isn't it so inconvenient to have these real-world obstacles to our imaginings? Your expression makes me feel that you have been 'brought down to earth', literally!'

Katherine laughed. 'I agree! The poets who spoke of _'dreaming a thousand happy dreams' _must never have known tiresome interruptions like lunch gongs and automobile horns!' She looked behind and saw Lily playing with Argos, and asked softly, 'So Lily finds it difficult to mingle with kids of her own age?'

Startled, Miranda blurted out, 'How did you -? Oh, I'd forgotten that you'd been a teacher - you _would_ observe that, naturally.' She frowned slightly. 'Lily is very intelligent for her age… I've been teaching her for more than a year now, but before that - she'd been to school, of course - and I believe the children used to resent her ability, and she was made fun of –'

Katherine knew all too well how Lily must have been treated – she had too many unwanted memories of being teased, herself.

'It IS difficult being a child sometimes, isn't it?' She said, thoughtfully. 'We think that we face more trouble as adults, but children often face their own share of trauma, too –'She glanced sideways at Miranda. _Should I or should I not? I think I will. _She hesitantly and briefly related her own childhood experiences. '… so perhaps Lily will learn to make friends with other children of 'her sort', too. She seems very fond of you – I've heard so many tales of 'Miss Miranda' by now!' She said teasingly.

Miranda had heard her account of her childhood with an expression of increasing dismay. 'But how awful…! To have suffered so much for so long – and yet, to have risen above -! And I –'

They were interrupted by a sailor. 'Pardon me, miss, but we are due to reach Dublin in half an hour. If you could keep your belongings and travelling documents ready –'

They were separated then, in the bustle of activity to prepare for arrival, and Katherine was left to wonder, in despair, if she would _ever_ get to hear Miranda's tale.

* * *

><p><strong>AN : I'm so,_so_ sorry for such a late update! Real life placing boulders and mountains in my path, as usual. To atone - I've put in TWO chapters at once, the next will come in faster (I hope. *sheepishly*)**

**The two stanzas are from the poem 'A Psalm Of Life' by H W Longfellow. The whole poem seems to be _ written_ based on the Anne-ian philosophy of life and I strongly recommend all to read it.**

**Thoughts - brickbats or roses - all are welcome! **


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

**September 17****th****,1891**

_The Savoy Hotel is truly an 'emblem of luxury' and 'pinnacle of comfort', as their advertisement_ _proclaims,'_ thought Katherine, as she sat ensconced in a comfortable armchair in her room. The room, though not as grand as the luxury suite that Sir and Lady Giles occupied, was nevertheless paradise, to one who had so long gone without so many creature comforts. She picked up the letter that had been sent up; Anne's letter had reached England just a little while after she had. Katherine smiled over her cheerful words, _' - Rebecca Dew sent me a letter full of marital advice, with a (barely) subtle warning, that were Gilbert ever to disappoint me (and she doesn't hold much hope that he won't!), he and Providence, would have to answer to her! I will never forgive you for missing my wedding, Katherine dear - you MUST promise to visit Four Winds as soon as you return– ' _

There was a knock at the door. Katherine hurriedly closed her trunk and stowed away the clothes which were strewn around, and opened the door to find Lily and Miranda, dressed as if to go out.

'Are you free, Miss Brooke? We're going to visit the Westminster Abbey and Trafalgar Square – Mama has a headache and cannot come, but Miss Miranda and I are going – would you come, too?' asked Lily eagerly.

Katherine acquiesced, having been given a brief reprieve from her duties, as her employers had decided to visit their relatives who were settled in London. She smiled at Miranda, who smiled back, a little hesitantly, she thought. There had been little chance for them to talk in the past two days, let alone share personal confidences, and Katherine couldn't help but feel that it would be difficult to get her to open up again. Miranda seemed more withdrawn than usual, and determined to keep the conversation to casual talk. _Something has happened to her – at the risk of sounding like a gossiping old woman, I feel sure that she's had a 'past', _she thought. _I wish I could help her - I know exactly how it feels to be under the burden of past events and sorrows, after all._

She had left Argos in the kennels provided by the hotel, and they took him along on a leash as they set out on foot.

'Those are the 'stratus' clouds, Lily,' observed her ever-opportunistic governess. 'They usually bring light rainfall –'

'Is that why everyone seems to be carrying an umbrella or wearing a coat, Miss Miranda?' asked Lily, looking around. 'That must be so bothersome – what would they do with them if the weather turned out to be warm?'

Katherine hid a smile. 'There's not much chance of that, Miss Kingsley – London perpetually has this kind of rainy weather at this time of the year. In fact, we had better get under cover soon, if we wish to avoid the drizzle.'

They flagged down a motor car and went to Trafalgar Square, and while Lily had a running lesson on history, art and literature, Katherine marvelled over the wonders of the National Gallery, sighed over the remembrances brought on by the Nelson's Column and struggled to keep Argos away from the pigeons that flocked the square, all the while, hardly believing that she was actually viewing those landmarks of human triumph and achievement, which she had described in dry words for so many years. They visited Westminster Abbey, and it was with the same dream-like feeling that she paid homage to the tombs of Charles Dickens, Geoffrey Chaucer, Robert Browning, Isaac Newton and Charles Darwin. While Lily was busy reading the epithets on the monuments, she and Miranda wandered from one crypt to another – looking for those famous personalities who now seemed so near - barely a handsbreadth away, viewing the names in those plaques with a mingled feeling of hushed reverence and a peculiar, bitter-sweet joy.

'Can you _believe_ that, probably in this very spot that we stand, William the Conqueror was coronated, Richard II married Anne of Bohemia and the likes of John Dryden and Christopher Wren studied?' said Miranda wonderingly.

Katherine nodded slightly, too overwhelmed for words. This was what she had meant when she had said she wished to see the world; the feeling of having a dream come true was too precious and new to be voiced aloud. To imagine that, in another time, these same stones had been trod by royalty, historical events unfolded between these walls, and such illustrated personas put to rest under one roof – she felt a queer little thrill of elation in her heart, which could probably only have been surpassed by her meeting her idols in real.

It was evening by the time they finished sightseeing and returned to the hotel. Katherine had bought a small, cunningly wrought replica of the Big Ben for Davy, and a pretty scarf with the map of London printed on it, for Dora – which were being sold as lures for unsuspecting tourists, nevertheless which, she reflected, her young friends would considerably enjoy. They walked up to their rooms, Lily chatting away about what they had seen that day, Katherine and Miranda replying to her - amidst their discussion of the difference between English and Canadian customs. They were still debating the origins of some of the more obscure and (seemingly) pointless rituals followed by their countrymen, when they reached Katherine's room, where they had to part.

'Oh, Miss Brooke, we are going to leave for Edinburgh tomorrow! I think we may be returning to London after a few weeks, but I heard Lady Giles say that you will not be staying in London above two weeks – is that true? We shall miss you,' she looked quickly at Miranda, as though for confirmation. 'Will you write to us?'

'I shall miss you too, Miss Kingsley,' said Katherine softly, '- and yes, I have taken your address from Miss Reeves, and will be delighted to be your correspondent.' She shook hands with the beaming Lily, and grinned at Miranda over her head. 'You _will _write to me, won't you, Miranda? I'm warning you, I'm a very persistent and obstinate writer – if I don't get satisfyingly long winded accounts of your doings, I'll bombard you with questions at such a rate that the Inquisition would seem a paltry affair in comparison!'

She laughed, 'Of course I will, Katherine! But I doubt my letters will be as interesting as yours –' She glanced mischievously at her ward. 'In fact, I believe that is why Lily wants your letters – for your descriptions of all those exciting places you will be visiting, than out of concern for your wellbeing!'

They said their goodbyes, laughing, with Lily still protesting against such an unfair accusation, and Katherine entered her room, to find that a note had been slipped beneath her door.

_'We will be meeting Mr Matthews tomorrow for discussing the deal, Miss Brooke,'_ Sir Giles had written. _'I hope those corrections I had asked for in the papers, have been made. Kindly be ready to leave by nine.' _

_Well, all _my_ reflections and wonderings will have to be postponed – duty comes first, _shethought wryly, setting out to prepare for the morrow. She glanced at the letter from Anne, and picked up the one she had written in reply – the one describing her journey, Lily and Miranda - which was yet to be posted. With a smile, she added a postscript – _I have just returned from a tryst with Chaucer, Dickens and Browning, Anne, and I'm feeling positively lightheaded with joy! This state of constant excitement cannot be good for my nerves, I'm sure – so, I'm planning to keep a travel journal to siphon off all that excessive feeling. Do you think you could make yourself read it, for the sake of your poor friend, Anne dear? Do say you will!_

* * *

><p><strong>September 18<strong>**th****,1891**

The offices of Advanced Automobile Industries, of which Mr Matthews was the founder and major shareholder, were held in a handsome, red bricked building, in a prominent part of the city. They had been greeted by the man's secretary, a Mr. Ansfrey, who looked to be a young man a few years older than herself, thought Katherine, as he made perfunctory small talk. He had pleasing manners and a rather plain face with honest eyes, and he obviously held his employer in great esteem, as was evident in his behaviour as he ushered them into the inner sanctum of the office – Mr Matthews' study.

Katherine's first impression of the man was of his height – he stood taller than nearly all the men she knew, at nearly six feet and a half. Katherine was used to being taller than the men around her - Sir Giles himself, was a head shorter than her – and she felt rather disconcerted, to be so towered over. He welcomed them and nodded cursorily as Sir Giles introduced her – his black eyes barely noting her; and as he spoke to Sir Giles about this new London branch and the improvements made in the new batch of vehicles manufactured at his New Orleans plant, Katherine had the opportunity to observe him further. He was a dark haired man, his swarthy complexion attesting to the years he must have spent toiling over the railway tracks, his voice - a low baritone. Katherine understood why Lady Giles thought he was 'brusque' – he seemed to consider that it was his secretary's duty to deal with the preliminary pleasantries, for he began the discussion regarding the deal straight away, and spoke in short, terse sentences, in a manner which revealed that he had little patience for those who wasted his time.

Katherine had read through the contract to have a clearer understanding of what she would be taking notes for, and as the talk progressed, she couldn't help noting that there would be a slight discrepancy in the objectives of the deal, which would be caused by a few changes that Mr Matthews wanted made. She tried to catch Sir Giles' attention, but this was difficult, as she and Mr Ansfrey were seated at a small table, a little apart from their employers.

'So, do we agree on these terms, Sir Giles?' said Mr Matthews just then, leaning back in his chair.

Sir Giles nodded thoughtfully, 'I believe we do-'

'I beg your pardon, sir,' said Katherine hurriedly. She wished she could ask Sir Giles for a word in private, but it just wasn't done in such meetings. She found all their eyes on her and took a deep breath. _In for a penny, in for a pound._

'I believe that the commission rate suggested in the contract was to account for the new train being meant for the lower classes – an efficient, yet cost effective means of travel.' she said clearly. 'With these new financial terms, that purpose would not be served - and I believe the ministry would not negotiate further.'

'That will do, Miss Brooke.' said Sir Giles stiffly, and Katherine knew that she would be reprimanded later, for speaking so to her 'betters', even though she had acted to save his face.

She noticed that Mr Matthews was observing her intently, as if seeing her for the first time – that direct gaze was a little perturbing, as it seemed like she was being judged on some scale in his mind, and the verdict – indeterminate, as she couldn't read his expression.

'It's alright, Sir Arthur,' he said, turning to him,' we will change the other terms, if this point is 'not negotiable'. '

He glanced back at her once more, as Sir Giles, in a tone of relief, began discussing the further steps to be taken, and Katherine returned his imperative gaze calmly, though she felt as though she should have let the deal be doomed, instead of opening her mouth and getting noticed and put into the black books of the powerful Stephen Matthews.

* * *

><p><strong>AN : I've tried to be a historically accurate as possible, throughout this tale, but please do let me know if I've made a mistake somewhere.**

**And so Stephen Matthews is (finally) here! ^_^ What d'you make of him?**

**Please do use the pretty,new review button below to let me know what you think!**


End file.
